


The Greenhouse

by HipHopAnonymous



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Brother Francis Has a Penis (Good Omens), Figging, Minor Humiliation, Nanny Ashtoreth Has a Penis (Good Omens), Other, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:13:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25394422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HipHopAnonymous/pseuds/HipHopAnonymous
Summary: Brother Francis is an awful, neglectful gardener, and Nanny Ashtoreth has had enough. She brings him to the greenhouse for a punishment even hotter than the sweltering air.
Relationships: Nanny Ashtoreth/Brother Francis (Good Omens)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 73





	The Greenhouse

“Your peonies are a _disaster,_ Brother Francis,” Nanny Ashtoreth scolded, heels clicking on the concrete floor as she circled him. “You’ve been neglecting them.”

The greenhouse was quite warm, uncomfortably so for mortals, but clearly for Brother Francis, as well, who was pink in the face and sweating under the Nanny’s scrutiny. However, despite her heavy skirt and jacket, Miss Ashtoreth didn’t even look flushed. She’d never much minded the heat anyway. Brother Francis on the other hand kept reaching up to wipe at his ruddy forehead, suffering in the muggy air.

“And all that nonsense about ‘sister slug’ and ‘brother snail.’ The foliage is absolutely littered with holes from your little pests gorging in the gardens. You should be controlling them, not encouraging them!”

She grabbed him by the scruff of his jacket and pushed him face down over the edge of an empty steel planting bench, free from flower pots, but still littered with soil.

“The violets are wilting, too, you know. Do you have any idea why, _Mr. Gardener?_ ”

He looked over his shoulder imploringly, but remained bent over where she’d put him, palms flat on the table top. “N-no, Miss Ashtoreth! I’m doing my best! I … I …”

“Your bessst?” She hissed. “You planted those violets in direct sunlight! The poor dears can’t be expected to take a full day of the hot sun. As the estate gardener, you ought to know that! Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

She watched his throat bob as he swallowed. His back heaved with labored breath, sweat beading along his hairline. 

“M’sorry,” he murmured.

She flipped his long jacket up over his back, revealing the seat of his trousers stretched tight across his plump bottom.

“You will be. Those violets burned right up in the heat, Brother Francis. It’s only fair you suffer the same fate, don’t you agree?”

She patted his rump and he whimpered, clenching his buttocks. 

“My, but your slacks are looking rather tight, Brother. Been popping into the kitchen after dark for a nibble, have you? You should have been out in the gardens with a torch seeing to the slug infestation instead!”

Truth be told, she found his pudgy bottom to be one of the most appealing parts of his disguise, the fake teeth and mutton chops certainly doing him no favors. A serpentine part of her had always longed to sink her fangs into the soft, pale flesh of his arse. Still, despite her desires, she couldn’t resist teasing him over his indulgences. The way he squirmed in embarrassment was downright irresistible.

“You haven’t even tried to be a competent gardener, Brother Francis.” She scolded. “You’re nothing but a freeloading miscreant. Always relaxing in the shade with a book and a tin of biscuits rather than doing your job. Such a lazy, neglectful, _naughty_ boy you are.”

His mouth fell open, and his whimpers pitched.

“You need to be taught a lesson, Brother Francis. What kind of nanny would I be if I allowed you to go unpunished? All naughty little boys need discipline, and what you need right now, Francis, is a _spanking_.”

His blush darkened instantly. “Miss Ashtoreth, please!” 

She raised her hand and smacked it down hard right against the center of his bottom, and he let out a high-pitched little _ooh!_ clearly not expecting such a hard swat right off the bat. She continued on, undeterred, delivering a volley of sharp smacks to the seat of his trousers, though he shook his hips from side to side in a fruitless attempt to evade her punishing hand. Each blow landed with a dull _thwack!_ His yelps indicated that the sensitive skin of his backside was quickly heating up despite the fabric barrier, which strained perilously against his chubby, wiggling buttocks.

Miss Ashtoreth stopped to shake her hand, cooling the warmth in her palm with a quick miracle. “You’d best get those tight trousers down before you rip them with all that thrashing about, Brother Francis.”

“Oh, but Miss Ashtoreth!” His ears turned red

“Hush! Did you really think a little spanking over your trousers would suffice? Your carelessness has nearly destroyed the Dowling’s lovely garden. I guarantee you are going to be one sorry boy before I’m through with your lesson. Trousers down, young man! Now.”

With more hesitation than Nanny Ashtoreth wished to see, Francis unfastened his slacks and worked them down over his hips, careful not to tug his white briefs along with them. This effort, however, was for naught. 

“Pants, too. Naughty boys are spanked on the bare bottom. You know that.”

“Noooo!” he wailed, shaking his head and giving one foot a little stamp of protest. 

Miss Ashtoreth clicked her tongue and began spanking his underwear-clad bottom again in earnest. “Stop making such a fuss this instant! If these pants aren’t down in the next three seconds, I’ll take them down _for_ you. And then send you out into the yard to fetch me a switch -- bare bottomed and all!”

Francis shrieked at the re-ignition of his buttocks via her angry palm -- this time through only the thin layer of his underpants. He writhed and frantically reached for the waistband of the briefs as he cried out, “All right! All right! I’m doing it! Look!” He moved hurriedly to take them down, and seeing that he was finally complying, Miss Ashtoreth let up on the spanking. 

She waited and then scowled. Francis had meticulously pulled his pants and trousers down a mere half inch below his round, naked bottom, and that certainly wouldn’t do. With a _harrumph_ she grabbed the fabric and yanked it all down to his knee-hollows despite his objecting yelp. Now that his bottom was properly bared, she appraised it. The pink hand prints from his warm-up spanking were plainly visible on the lily white skin. She tilted her head, catching sight of his half-hard cock and nearly chuckled.

Composing herself, she asked in a suitably scandalized tone, “Are you _enjoying_ your punishment, Brother Francis?”

His face blazed red and he shook his head hard, twisting his hips away from her in an effort to hide his … well, his _effort_. “N-no! No! I’m sorry! Can’t help it!”

“Oh, I see how it is. No need to be embarrassed about your little willy, Francis. Many boys can’t help but respond like that to the stimulation of a good spanking. Although it likely means I’ve been going too easy on you. Luckily, I have just the thing!”

She walked over to a line of plants, leaving Francis still bent over the bench, his apprehensive eyes following her every step.

“While you’ve been neglecting your duties, I’ve been doing a bit of gardening of my own in this greenhouse, Brother Francis. I have a small herb collection here.” She gestured to a section of green, leafy stalks. “Do you know which herbs these are?”

Francis chewed his lip, brow furrowed, and then shook his head.

Miss Ashtoreth sighed heavily and rolled her eyes. “However did you convince the Dowlings to hire you? Must have been a _miracle,_ ” she said with a covert little wink. “This is ginger, Brother Francis. A common herb used for spice, as I’m sure you know. It’s all edible, however the most potent part is the root.”

She used a small spade to dig out one of the plants from the soil, pulling up the gnarled, knobby brown root of it. Brother Francis paled. He may not have known a lick about gardening, but Miss Ashtoreth knew he was familiar with certain flavors of recreational discipline. She broke off a finger of the ginger root, tossing aside the rest of the plant. She then pulled a small paring knife from her pocket and began to peel and carve while she spoke.

“The plants in the gardens have suffered from your selfish neglect, Francis,” she lectured, shaping the root into a tapered little plug while Brother Francis watched with wide eyes, his naked backside trembling as he squirmed with nerves, knowing very well what was coming. “It’s a bit of poetic justice that your retribution will come from a plant, is it not?”

Once the carving was complete, she held the white ginger plug up and grinned. It was thicker than her own finger and about four inches long. Francis’s mouth went dry. “Perfect. Did you know the effects are most potent the fresher the root? This one should be absolutely blazing.” He tensed as she came over, placing one hand on his flank. “Why don’t you reach back and spread those chubby little buttocks open for me?”

He sucked in a sharp breath and released it with a quiet, stuttering sob; however, he obeyed nonetheless, resting his cheek on the dirty bench as he reached back to grab two plentiful handfuls of his own buttocks. His fingers dug into the soft flesh, still pink from the earlier spanking, and spread himself apart, his full crack and the backs of his swaying testicles coming into view. His wrinkled anus was stretched lewdly open, framed by coarse blonde hair, damp from his nervous sweat.

“Good boy,” she praised, pushing the tip of the ginger root plug right against the tiny opening of his waiting hole.

Francis tensed, his backside trembling, but to his credit, he held the humiliating, vulnerable position as she worked the root inside him, twisting and prodding forcefully enough to make him gasp. Miss Ashtoreth persisted until his anus was filled with the entirety of the ginger, only the bulbous end sticking out like a rudder.

She stepped back and crossed her arms, waiting for the fireworks to begin. If anything, his erection had swelled even more from having his sensitive arsehole plugged, but she knew that wouldn’t last. As expected, only a few moments passed before Brother Francis began to squirm. 

“Oh!” he breathed. “Oh! _Ohhhhh!_ ”

He instinctively clenched his bottom only to shriek and then go rigid. A tremor shot down his back, and she was pleased to see his erection had completely wilted. 

“The more you move around and clench, the worse it will be,” Miss Ashtoreth warned.

“Oh, please, _please!_ Please take it out! It burns! It’s too hot!” He moaned and panted, knees shaking.

“Good! Your actions have consequences, Francis. Perhaps next time you’ll remember the pain of your own burning little _rosebud_ , and remember not to leave delicate blossoms out in the hot sun!” She flicked the protruding portion of the root lodged inside him and he howled, knuckles going white from clenching his fists instead of his buttocks.

“I imagine you’ll want to keep still while I finish your spanking, Francis.”

He released a shuddering groan, but Miss Ashtoreth only flattened her hand, making it nearly as stiff as a paddle, and delivered a sound spanking to his bare bottom. She put her back into it, wielding all the demonic strength of Hell to light a fire in Brother Francis’s backside, which was rapidly darkening to an angry shade of bright pink with every stinging _crack!_ of her relentless palm.

Francis lay flat on the table, thrashing his head from side to side as he struggled to remain as still as possible while his bottom was being so mercilessly spanked. His chubby buttocks were a blazing, blistered cherry red now, and his initial sobs had escalated to wails and then to animal-like brays as sweat rolled down the sides of his face and he clawed frantically at nothing. Each time he slipped up and kicked his feet or clenched his bottom at a particularly sharp, burning smack, he shrieked at what was presumably the ginger root’s eruption of flames inside his figged little pucker.

“Oh, please, _please,_ Miss Ashtoreth!” he begged. “Oh! Oh it hurts! No more! Miss Ashtoreth! Nanny! _Oh, Nanny, please!_ ”

Immune to his cries, Nanny Ashtoreth continued to give him an unforgiving, thorough spanking, not even breaking her stride as she scolded, “I hope you’re learning your lesson, Francis. Bad boys end up with a red hot botty -- inside and out!”

Miss Ashtoreth was devilishly thorough, making sure to redden the backs of his plump thighs just as well as his bottom. Once absolutely every inch of his ample backside was a deep scarlet, and she was fully satisfied that he had learnt his lesson, she finished up with several extra hard swats - _spank! Spank! SPANK!_ that left him a blubbering mess, slumped limply over the table, his shoulders shaking.

“There, there,” she murmured as she carefully slid the ginger root out of his bottom and set it aside. She continued shushing him while patting his quavering back, letting him cry out the pain for as long as he needed. Gradually, his sobs subsided into sniffles. “That’s better. It’s all over now. Have you learnt your lesson?”

“Y-yes, Nanny!” he hiccuped.

“That’s good. Because I have plenty of ginger left, you know. I’ll be keeping tabs on the gardens and if the conditions don’t improve, you’ll find yourself right back in this same position for another spanking with a fresh root up your naughty hole. Only next time I’ll paddle your bare bottom with the back of my wooden hairbrush!”

He whimpered and nodded his understanding, looking miserably contrite. However, Miss Ashtoreth didn’t fail to notice his cock taking a renewed interest in the threat, swelling to half-mast, and she suspected that he’d be rubbing one out to the idea later. At the moment, though, he was busy rubbing the sting out of his flaming red tail as he stood, trousers and pants bunched around his ankles and his jacket still pushed up beneath his armpits. The sight was both arousing and adorable, Miss Ashtoreth’s cock and heart aching in equal measure.

“You know, Angel, if you’re struggling with the gardening, you only need ask for my help.”

He sniffed and wiped at his eyes, still rubbing his hot bottom with one hand. “Oh, well … I don’t know. I can’t really do that, can I? Accept your help? I mean, I shouldn’t, really …” He bit his bottom lip and gave her those big, beseeching angel eyes, still shiny wet with tears. It was so damned precious she had to look away, her face going warm.

“Oh, nonsense!” she spluttered, clearing her throat. “You worry too much. It wouldn’t count as … as _fraternizing_. I swear! Think nothing of it. Consider it done.”

The resulting smile was so heavenly, so pure, that Miss Ashtoreth nearly burst.

It wasn’t until later when she was stroking her own cock to memories of how Brother Francis’s red jiggling bottom had looked mid-spanking that she realized she’d most assuredly been played. And so easily, too. _Spoilt rotten little angel. Where_ had _she put that hairbrush, anyway?_

**Author's Note:**

> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/HipHopAnonymou9)  
> 
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